


Everyday

by WhumpTown



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Brightwell Parents, Dad Malcolm Bright, F/M, Hurt Malcolm Bright, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:40:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23747722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhumpTown/pseuds/WhumpTown
Summary: Hurt/Comfort plus Malcolm being a good dad and Brightwell fluff
Relationships: Dani Powell & JT Tarmel, Gil Arroyo & Dani Powell, Gil Arroyo & Malcolm Bright, Malcolm Bright/Dani Powell
Comments: 4
Kudos: 80





	Everyday

“They’re with _Jessica_?”

Dani looks up from her computer. As normal, without Malcolm around the office, she talks a lot more to JT. Before Gil’s sudden intrusion, she’d been telling him about her guilt over leaving Malcolm at home. He’d looked miserable and the kids could see it too. By the time she needed to leave for work to be on time, they were all near tears for all very different reasons. So, she had the kids compromise staying home with Daddy for Jessica’s. 

The look on Gil’s face is all Dani needs to know he’s jealous that Jessica has gotten the kids for the day while he’s stuck at the office. He had them over the past weekend and they’re working on a case. Needless to say, Jessica also doesn’t work. So, it makes a lot more sense to have dropped them off with Jessica and not him.

“Gil,” she sighs. “They’re just there for the day.” It’s becoming very clear that he doesn’t care. He and Jessica are exhausting with their love for their grandchildren. “Come by this afternoon or something,” not that she’s sure Malcolm will be feeling better by then. “I’m sure-” her phone buzzes in her pocket and she stands to motion to her as a ticket to get her out of this conversation.

She doesn’t give Gil the chance to continue the conversation, answering the call and excusing herself to the lunchroom. “How are you, my love?” She puts the phone between her shoulder and cheek as she makes a cup of coffee. After this morning, she’s already tired and she wants to go home. She really does feel bad about leaving Malcolm home when he’s feeling so bad.

It takes a moment to respond to her and when he does, his voice is a whisper. “Migraine.”

She nods her head. She figured that’s how the day was headed. “Did you take any medicine before it got too bad?” 

“No,” he croaks. 

She can hear him swallow thickly. Stirring some sugar into the black liquid she jerks her shirt sleeve up to see the watch on her wrist. It’s been about four hours since she left him. Making it just past lunchtime, one o’clock. She hopes, for his sake, that it’s easing down now. “Feeling any better?”

She hears muffled movement and the sound of him gagging. Takes that as a no. Her heart rate spikes, something that sounds too much like his body hitting the floor. “Malcolm!” A moment later she can hear his ragged breathing on the line and the phone is moved.

“ ‘m okay,” he answers. 

“Did you fall?” She tries to keep her voice soft, to not make his migraine any worse but he has to be at least a little better if he’s managed to call her. Her coffee is mostly forgotten, her heart still beating rapidly in her chest. “Are you in the bathroom?”

He hums a confirmation but she’s not sure to which question. After a moment, he includes, “gonna take a nap.” She can hear him moving but she’s not sure what it is he’s doing. That is until he moves the phone. “Tiles cold.”

She frowns in disgust. They keep the bathroom clean and do their best to make sure it gets mopped frequently but still. They have a three old boy who still misses the toilet when he pees. “Oh, Malcolm.” She runs a hand over her face, “the bathroom floor is so nasty.”

There’s a breathy laugh on the other end and she takes it to mean he is feeling better. His stomach is always a little funny, at least they can blame it on a migraine. “Not licking it,” he mumbles sleepily and she imagines he’s got his head pillowed in his arms. Just too weak to get up and make it to their bedroom. “Wish you were here,” he whispers and she can tell he’s falling asleep. “Want a cold rag and a-a cuddle.”

“A cuddle,” she repeats with a hum. Malcolm’s guilty pleasure is being a little spoon and she thinks it’s adorable. “Do you want anything from the store? Anything I can pick up to make you feel better?” She’ll grab him some seltzer water and a Gatorade. Maybe a pack of Twizzlers too if he keeps up this miserable charade, it’s making her feel pretty guilty.

He shakes his head before he remembers she can’t see him. Suddenly, it’s not the only thing he remembers. The kids were supposed to be home today and his stomach twists as he sits up in a panic. “Where are the kids? Dani, I- I don’t know where-”

She shushes him gently, “baby, they’re at your mom’s.” She can hear the relieved sigh tears itself from his lungs. “I think I’m gonna ask her to keep them for the night so you can get some sleep.”

He mutters a soft ‘no’, he moves back to the floor. Curling around his stomach. The movement from a moment ago is now making his nausea come back furiously. “I wanna see ‘em,” he argues. “...can sleep when I’m dead.”

She sighs. He’s a good father. He was such a natural with their first that it made her jealous of how good he was. His patience was amazing and their daughter used to only sleep at night if he rocked her to sleep. Their son is Malcolm up and down, from blue eyes to sleepless nights. The problem is, he doesn’t like asking for help.

“Please,” he knows her silence is full of thought. “My stomach is just a little upset,” he explains but even his argument is dripping with his exhaustion. “I miss them.”

How he could miss them? It was only this morning that their nine-year-old cried because her hairbrush got stuck in her hair. Their son cried when his oatmeal didn’t have Cheerios. His oatmeal has never had Cheerios so why it would suddenly have them now all of the sudden is beyond her. 

At the same time… their son climbed into Malcolm’s lap this morning and hugged him. Sitting contently still with his arms wrapped around Malcolm’s neck, just letting his father’s soak in the tender attention. Their daughter, with brushed hair, had put a hairband in Malcolm’s hair, effectively pushing Malcolm’s bangs from his face. It had spurred the softest smile on Malcolm’s face. 

Hell, now she misses them.

“I’ll be home in an hour, okay?”

He grunts, “Dani, you don’t have to. I’ll be okay.”

She rolls her eyes. “Malcolm you don’t feel good, your mother probably needs a break, and I…” she doesn’t want to be at work, not when she could be home holding her husband tight. “I miss you too and when was the last time we took a day off to just be together?”

She takes her coffee with her back to her desk and begins packing up. “I’ll bring your work home but you’re not even opening it until you can eat at least three saltine crackers without puking.” The comment makes JT look up in disgust. 

She can hear the frown in Malcolm’s voice. “One,” he bargains and she wonders who he thinks he is trying to bargain with her about three saltine crackers.

“No, three.” She offers JT her coffee silently and he pauses a moment before shrugging and taking it. She grabs her coat and settles if over her arm as she walks to Gil’s office. Malcolm’s trying to tell her that she’s being too hard on him but she ignores him as she pushes the phone away from her face to tell Gil she’s leaving.

“Headed home?” 

She smiles, grateful that he’s always so understanding but then again, their relationship is at the very least 10% his fault. She nods and he smiles.

“Take care of our boy.”

Some things really don’t change.

“Malcolm,” she interrupts his monologue about her authoritarian like decision over _his_ food intake. “I love you but it’s three saltines, baby.” Once again the phone is smushed between her shoulder and cheek as she climbs into the car and buckles in. “I’m on my way home, don’t do anything stupid.”

He grumbles something out of her ability to hear.

“I’ll bring you some seltzer water and a pack of Twizzlers,” she offers.

“Okay.”

She rolls her eyes. He’s a child trapped in a grown man’s body. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

\-----------------

When she gets home, he’s on the bathroom floor.

She sends the kids on. It’s not the first time he’s passed out somewhere other than their bed but they don’t need to see him struggling to get to bed. She waits for the sound of them running down the hall before she moves all the way into their bathroom. 

“Malcolm,” she crouches down, shaking his shoulder gently. “Wake up, baby.” It takes a moment for his blue eyes to blink open but when they do he groans and curls into himself, arms lifting over his head to protect his eyes.

She cuts the lights off and wraps her arm under his shoulder, pulling his body against hers. 

“Migraines back,” he whispers, turning his face against her stomach. He shivers, white-hot pain working over his brain like a vice. He’s miserable but her skin is soft and her hands are gently massaging the back of his neck. It’s much better than the bathroom’s tile.

Dani frowns because it never gets easier seeing him like this.

“Mommy?” Both of their children are standing in the doorway. They’ve, at least, learned to keep their voices soft around their sick father. “Is daddy okay?”

She can feel Malcolm flinch. It’s not the pain, it’s just the fact that he thinks one day his children will hate him for being _weak_ and sickly by nature. She’s never understood that any person that sees these children with him knows they adore him endlessly.

Dani smiles softly at them, “daddy’s head hurts. So, he’s gonna take a nap.” 

Their daughter winces, “he’s gonna sleep in the bathroom?”

Dani refrains from laughing and jolting Malcolm. “No, sweetie.” She leaves out that Malcolm _had_ been sleeping in the bathroom when they got home. “Why don’t you two do daddy a favor?” They both nod eagerly. “Okay,” she smiles. “Can you get me a cold rag, the softest, bestest blanket we have, and seltzer water?”

They seem adamant this will help.

“Daddy’s sick,” she repeats. Of course, they have to be as skeptical and hard-headed as Malcolm. “Don’t those things help you when you’re sick?”

They consider this for a moment and tear off for the kitchen to complete their mission.

Dani rubs Malcolm’s shoulder, “let’s get you to bed.”

Slow and steady. It’s like everything else they do, an act of love that moves slow but steady. 

“I saw _her_ ,” he whispers with red-rimmed eyes. His feet are barely lifting from the ground and his body is leaning heavily against hers. He’s exhausted and he’s not sure he can make it back to the bed. “For just a moment.”

Dani sighs and keeps him moving. “I’m sure it was nothing Malcolm.” And she means it. “You’re taking your medicine, you’re going to therapy, and you haven’t seen _him_ in over nine years.” Their children know nothing of their biological paternal grandfather. Gil is all they know and that’s plenty okay. “It’s just the fever.”

The mood changes briskly the moment they set eyes on their children. Malcolm might bring it back up later but he’ll let it rest for now.

“Good job!” Dani whispers her praises as they get to their room their children are gathered with the supplies she asked for. She notices her son's stuffed animal, ‘Ellie’, clutched tightly in his hands. He’s unbearably adorable.

Their daughter rolls her eyes, “he thinks the elephant will help.”

Dani chooses not to say anything just keeps pressing on.

Malcolm stops though, forcing her to let him stand weakly on his own volition. He studies his children for a moment and they soak under the attention. Like little flowers moved to a sunny window. “Is that for me?” His voice is hoarse and he looks sick but their son smiles bubbly and hands his father the stuffed animal. As if he can’t see it.

Malcolm hums, rubbing his fingers along the soft tummy of the stuffed animal. “Thank you, buddy.”

Dani slips her hand around his waist and urges him on. 

He sits down on the edge of their bed, heavily. Beaten and breath ragged as he tries to fight the nausea washing over him. 

Their daughter needs a little prompting but she hands Malcolm the cold rag and the seltzer water. He smiles as the items are placed in his hands, he presses a kiss to her forehead, “thank you, baby.”

Dani pulls the covers back and forces Malcolm down, both more than aware of the set of eyes on them. “Get some sleep,” she whispers and kisses Malcolm before placing the rag over his face. He sighs audibly and his shoulders relax beneath him. “Come on, guys.”

Neither child budges, their eyes moving between her and Malcolm.

“Daddy?” They go right over her head, knowing Malcolm will cave to anything they want. “Can’t we take a nap with you?” There’s something about the tender way they move closer. Concerned for him.

“Come here,” he lifts his arm and it takes only a moment for the two of them to tuck themselves up against him. He hums contently, the warmth of their bodies soothing the chills wracking through him. “Dani?”

The bed dips and she moves to his half of the bed, pulling all three of them to her. With his head in her lap, she gently massages at his head. Kneading the stiff muscles at the base of his neck and he sighs in relief. The kids nod off quickly, both tucked against Malcolm’s chest. 

“You spoil them,” Dani whispers with a smile. 

He hums, he does. 

She presses a kiss to his temple, “you’re an amazing father.”

He blushes. He spends so much time criticizing the small ways that he messes up that he forgets to see all the ways he’s a perfect father. “I love you, Dani.” He blinks his eyes open sleepily, wanting to see the twinkle her eyes get whenever he says it.

She smiles and the twinkle is there, “ I love you too.”


End file.
